


Demonstrations Are In Order

by TTMIYH



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Chucklevoodoos, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fear, Forced Masturbation, M/M, Masturbation, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Self-Pailing, Sexual Slavery, Tentabulges (Homestuck), Troll Anatomy, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 14:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18896641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TTMIYH/pseuds/TTMIYH
Summary: "And who's this motherfuckin' little wiggler you're bringing up in my holiest of temples?" The Grand Highblood boomed, and Equius knew that he was talking about - not to - him, in the way that one talked about a barkbeast. Equius had dressed decently for the occasion, which was to say, he dressed normally except he wore his starchier pants and made sure to thoroughly wash the sweat out of his hair, while Horuss had followed in line, performing a similar, if a bit more thorough, cleansing."This is my descendant, Equius, a fellow Sagittarius," Horuss answered, almost robotically. "I have brought him here in exchange for your assistance in my endeavors, as per our original agreement."





	Demonstrations Are In Order

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oncewewerezombies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncewewerezombies/gifts).



> "Sometimes you gotta show a motherfucker exactly what it means when you say that their place is to serve. :o) Having a model to demonstrate on is a great and mirthful help for a righteous ninja."

The approach to the Grand Highblood's tent was a precipitous one, punctuated by an exciting encounter with a bunch of lowblooded hooligans, a disarming check-up with the local rambunctious highwaymen, and then having to beat off a couple of subjugglators in training who were told that an extra meal would come to whoever executed "those Indigo fucks in the hovercraft!". Thankfully, in Equius's view, they made it with relatively little fuss or muss, and the day's exciting events could be put behind them. Hopefully, the meeting with the Grand Highblood would go smoothly, with a minimum of excitement, and they would get to live with their toxin bladders intact and inside of their bodies.

Hahaha. Yeah, right.

The Grand Highblood's tent was almost a city of its own, or at least, it felt like that. Entering it brought one into a ringed campground underneath a canopy of blood-stained tentflaps and painted-on stars glittering in the dim torchlight. On occasion, actual glitter was used, clumping up into big, hardened strands that twinkled almost like the polar stars, a constant reminder that in this strange place, the only guiding light was that of the subjugglators. Purplebloods and their slaves and minions flitted in and out of smaller tents, practicing their axe throwing, smashing bloodgourds, practicing chucklevoodoos, and nothing could stop the resonant fragments of their semi-psionic activities from pooling in the two Indigobloods' heads, like a stagnant pond slowly growing fallow and heavy with mosses for the insects to nibble at.

In here, there was only one place that stood out above the noise and organized chaos. A series of bleachers, like those assembled for the shows of smaller subjugglator bands, crudely fashioned together into a pyramid-like stairwell to lead the duo up towards the throne of the Grand Highblood himself, amusingly hidden away behind a smaller tent. As they discovered while pushing inside, actually, two tents. No, wait, three. On the third, in between canopy, a young, scraggly, limber looking subjugglator in training leapt out with an exhortation of fear, trying to spook the Indigobloods. A simple backhanded swat from the taller of the two sent the pest away.

His voice hit them before the visage did as their heads dipped into the final tent upon its throne of bleachers. An interior of dark purple and black material, splattered with all the colors of the rainbow, the throne more like a gigantic lounge chair than anything else, blood-stained chains and shackles nailed crudely to its base and legs.

"Kneel.", the voice said, and they knelt.

In here, the tent's flaps closing behind them, it was like being in a pot of boiling water. He could feel the mental heat rising, some kind of bubbling agitation riding its way up his spinal column and into his think pan, fizzing like a freshly cracked can of pop. Even without turning them on (he assumed), the Grand Highblood's merest presence invited, spelled fear. The  _gigantic_ purpleblood remained seated, casually curling a finger over towards Horuss, who got up to his feet obediently and walked, firm footfalls landing on the hard metal surface of the Grand Highblood's inner sanctum. When he reached the Grand Highblood's side, he knelt without being told to do so, climbing into a shockingly submissive position, hands on his thighs, thighs on his calves, tops of his feet pressed into the ground below him.

"And who's this motherfuckin' little wiggler you're bringing up in my holiest of temples?" The Grand Highblood boomed, and Equius knew that he was talking about - not to - him, in the way that one talked about a barkbeast. Equius had dressed decently for the occasion, which was to say, he dressed normally except he wore his starchier pants and made sure to thoroughly wash the sweat out of his hair, while Horuss had followed in line, performing a similar, if a bit more thorough, cleansing.

"This is my descendant, Equius, a fellow Sagittarius," Horuss answered, almost robotically. Equius had heard tales of subjugglators who had such skill in the art of chucklevoodoos that they would become able to directly implant thoughts in the minds of others, but such a skill was unheard of, and yet, here was his mentor and ancestor, staring back at Equius with a faint, purple-y sheen to his eyes, a sort of venomous glaze in said deep indigo pockets. If anyone was able to perform those vaunted, mythical skills, it would be the Grand Highblood. "I have brought him here in exchange for your assistance in my endeavors, as per our original agreement."

"Motherfuckin' agreement, huh..." The Grand Highblood's remarks mirrored Equius's thoughts. What agreement? Had there been some kind of hidden deal that he wasn't aware of, arranged behind his back? As if Equius wasn't nervous enough, he had begun sweating plasmas, more than usual. "I don't recall makin' such a fuckin' deal, but if you insist, I might motherfuckin' buy it. What were our terms? Tell me again."

Horuss's face twitched, muscle straining under skin as the purple shine in his eyes turned into an outright purple glow. Equius felt something throb in his throat while he watched his ancestor, his mentor, the man who took him in when his Lusus died and taught him everything he knew, begin to say something awful. "The boy is to become your personal assistant, in exchange for half of your stocks of blood, and a commission aboard the  _Battleship Condescension_."

Equius's pusher dropped. His mind raced, trying to work its way through possibilities to see what way out there could be. Could he take the Grand Highblood in a fistfight? It was certainly possible, but he would be better off STRONGJUMPing away. But the ID chit for the hovercraft was in Horuss's pockets, so he'd have to get that first or probably get torn apart by feisty subjugglators... maybe he could argue his case? His eyes darted back and forth behind his sunglasses, and he slowly tried to ease himself down onto one knee.

He could not. It was like his body was just refusing. He could feel the electric impulses travel across his nervous system, and get swallowed up into the inky black abyss that was his muscles. "You. Wiggler. Name."

Equius knew that disobeying a highblood was beyond him. After all, his place in the hemospectrum had been drilled into him since his hatching - in any of his fantasies, he would've wanted this, to serve at the beck and call of a highblood, particularly a landdwelling one, and yet, all he could feel was infinite horror burning in his gut like magma. Eventually, his life would put him in the path of a purpleblood, and he would have no choice but to kneel. Perhaps it was better that it be one of the stronger ones? His breathing was getting heavier but his lungs weren't responding properly, restricted by whatever paralysis had gripped his muscles. "Equius Zahhak." He squeaked out, hissing it from beneath half-full air bladders.

"Equius." The Grand Highblood tested, rolling the words off his scorched purple tongue, letting it loll out of his mouth while he tested the way it sounded. "Such a  _strong_ lookin' little blueblood. Is he as strong as you are?"

Horuss nodded his head slowly and languidly. "We have comparable mutations in that regard. However, due to age-related musculoskeletal development, I am currently the stronger of the two of us."

"Good  _shit_!" The Grand Highblood replied, with a loud, roar-like laugh, clapping his hands together. In a similarly sudden motion, he jerked his head down, leaning into his own lap, staring holes into Equius. "Do you wanna leave, lil' wiggler? Wanna get away from this place?"

"Yes." Equius obediently replied, before his think pan caught up with his mouth. He tried to clasp his hand over it, but his shoulder wouldn't budge, and his mortification grew. The Grand Highblood burst into uproarious applause and laughter, filling the tent with his disgusting series of snort-honks in between hyena-like cackles, gasping for air through his own sharp teeth.

"You all know what they fuckin' say about true colors and fear-" The Grand Highblood teased, waving one hand with a flourish, gesturing to the rainbow pallette of blood types across his tent. "So let's get this fuckin' insubordinate behavior trained outta you good an' quick, right, my most righteous of bluebloods?" He announced, running one of his massive claws through Horuss's hair. Equius resisted the urge to correct him - they were indigo, not blue - but his jaw was locked up tighter than a robot's synthetic pumpbiscuit, all the screws shut tight.

He couldn't speak unless the Grand Highblood let him. He was beginning to lose feeling in his legs from kneeling for this long, watching with sedate fear as Horuss got up and immediately began stripping out of his clothes. A soft purple glow illuminated the Grand Highbloods large, poofy, bloodsplattered pants while he narrated. "Even the motherfuckin' STRONGEST of men is nothin' to little ol' me. You see? Watch as he up and fuckin' debases himself for his master."

And so, Equius watched. He could only blink once every minute or so, his eyes watering with the strain, as his own master pulled down the Grand Highblood's pants enough to reveal a sinuous, thick, untextured bulge, writhing free and beginning to curl around Horuss's neck. Equius was a mess, his clothes soaked through with sweat, his hair and all the care put into it already ruined, and worst of all - watching all of this was somehow turning him on. Horuss didn't move an inch as the Grand Highblood literally began to strangle him with his bulge, and all Equius could think of is the kind of dexterity and muscle control necessary to maneuver your tentabulge through 3d space like that, especially with one as large as the Grand Highblood's.

Horuss's hands were down between his legs, even though the angle Equius was at wasn't the best for viewing. He could see the familiar motions of someone's arms pumping, one hand stroking his own bulge, the other likely fingering his nook, or at least rubbing the outside, and Equius was forced to imagine what his master's bulge and nook might look like. Did they look like Equius's? They must have, right? The slightly flared, unsightly tip, the tiny little nubs and bumps, probably even that little swollen section in the middle that made him think slightly of dirtnoodles at the most inappropriate of times. Perhaps Horuss looked like that, but larger, more developed. It was like watching a mirror of himself from behind, the way Horuss lavished the Grand Highblood's bulge with attention, trying to press himself further against it. It was unsightly, to say the least.

Whipping his bulge back, the Grand Highblood let the narrow tip press against Horuss's front (what Equius assumed was his lips), and went ahead, confirming Equius's assumption with the muted gagging sounds that followed. It was impossible for anyone to take such a monstrous length in their mouth, he knew well enough that jaws didn't work that way, and yet, what he saw still kept disappearing, the gagging only getting louder and more obvious. Even from several meters away, Equius could hear the wet, slick noise of Horuss's mouth being pulled off from around the Grand Highblood's bulge. Equius thought about a throat becoming unstuffed, skin retreating to its original taut length, and he shivered.

The Grand Highblood pointed a finger back, and Horuss turned around to show himself off, purplish preslurry and clear saliva mixing into a noxious concoction that ran down his chin and across his chest. Horuss's bulge (which was, indeed, highly reminiscent of Equius's own, but larger) lazily swam back and forth, held loosely in Horuss's grip. The Grand Highblood leered over Horuss's shoulder, his eyes looking like smoky purple flames in the hazy environ of the tent. "You feelin' me,  _Equius_?" He said, spitting the indigoblood's name down onto the ground like it was a vile poison. "This is the sort of thing yer gonna be doin' each an' every night for me." He growled, leaning forward, his bulge slapping over Horuss's other shoulder. "Disrobe."

Equius felt searing painless pain burn through his mind like a harpoon. His eyes rolled up into their sockets, and his body was wracked with icy cold, while his muscles bent and contorted to pry his sweat-coated clothes off of himself. He could see, very loosely, through a murky, purple haze, mental feedback dissolving his vision in much the same way that a necrotic virus nibbled away at flesh. It was like being locked inside your own head. Little impish creatures of darkness yanked and pulled at all of his levers, chittering like hopbugs in the night while Equius was quickly rendered nude by his own uncontrollable hand. Now, the mirror analogy was more complete, Horuss looking like nothing more than Equius with a couple dozen more sweeps and some preslurry on his dark skin.

"Go pail yourself."

The command filled Equius with light again, and he was barely cognizant of the results, although the horror of self-pailing was enough to almost shock him out of it. It seemed like he could bubble to the surface in quick swipes and sweeps, clawing for air, as his bulge wormed its way into his own nook. His hands, the accursed betrayers, assisted in this, guiding the tip inside until it pressed into his interior canal. He felt it fill him, and it felt sinfully good, to pail with himself under the direct control of the highest of subjugglators, a landdwelling highblood a tier above him, one of the most important people in the Empire.

By all accounts, he should be wanting and enjoying this, but all he felt was abject terror. The terror of losing control of his body. The terror of losing his senses, unable to process even things as simple as the scent of his own sweat or pheromones. The terror of social ostracization, as if he would somehow get the opportunity to talk to other people again, what would they think when they found out he was some kind of freak who let his bulge enter its own complimentary nook? And the terror of losing the life full of wonder and invention he had led so far.

He was so scared, he didn't notice the gutpunch of orgasm until it opened up, beginning to pump his own slurry into himself. His muscles finally relaxed and unclenched, his eyes given permission to see once more, and he rolled over onto his hands and knees, shaking and writhing while slurry spilled out uselessly onto the ground, with no bucket to receive it. It was so  _tainted_ and  _wrong_ but now that his brain wasn't being wrung out like a sponge he could enjoy it, at the very least able to enjoy the physical, lurid sensation if nothing else. He didn't even bother pulling his bulge free, nor did he pay much mind to the sight of Horuss bent over just the same, his own nook stuffed in just the same way. When the Grand Highblood crooned out a low, rumbling "Come here, Equius,", well, who was he to disobey a direct order?

Even with his willingness to get up on his legs, they had fallen completely asleep. This usually made walking difficult, but not when that fluttering flapbug of terror built its way back into your heart again and your eyes burst with purple light and the ability to move was taken away from you. He felt the pins and needles crying out while blood returned to its designated muscles, slowly walking away that lack of feeling, his bulge beginning to burrow its way back into its sheath, satisfied with a deposit supposedly well-spent, even as all of it dripped out of Equius's nook and down the insides of his sweat-slick thighs. Equius sat down in front of the Grand Highblood, next to Horuss, and he didn't need to be told to kneel, but he was told nonetheless, and he knelt.

"As fer you, Horuss... I'll be keeping you for a week. If you still feel like you need that fuckin' commission, we'll talk once you've served your propa duties." The Grand Highblood instructed, as Horuss bent down to clamp his ankles into those shackles pounded into the bottom of the Grand Highblood's throne. Then, Horuss bent over to do the same to Equius with a smaller set, and Equius could only stand ramrod still as it was locked into place, mechanism clamped down tight, cool metal on his numb, tingling legs.

The Grand Highblood's bulge slapped down between the two, and Equius put his arms around the thickest part, near the base. He looked up at the Grand Highblood with a blissed out, awestruck expression, only flinching slightly when the Grand Highblood reached down to snap Equius's glasses off of his face and discard them.

"Alright. Get to motherfuckin' work."

**Author's Note:**

> May do a part two once swap season is over and done with.


End file.
